


Little Scarlet

by betts



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Baby Rey, Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Daddy Kink, Daddy Kylo Ren, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, No Incest, Roleplay, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shaving, Spanking, Tattoos, Tongue Piercings, the great wip cleanout of 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betts/pseuds/betts
Summary: 35 [M4F] exp Daddy seeking little 20+
  
  submitted 64 minutes ago by KyloRen
Reddit is a dangerous place.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in June and had a heck of a time with it. It's nowhere near the quality I want it to be but I figured I might as well post it while I'm cleaning out my WIP folder.
> 
> Title taken from Lana Del Rey's "Off to the Races" aka the daddy anthem we don't deserve.

Reddit is a dangerous place. One wrong click, and you fall down the rabbit hole into a topic you never thought you’d give a shit about. Such is the dilemma on a Sunday afternoon when Rey should be doing homework but instead finds herself on a Daddy Dom/little girl personals forum. An hour ago, she had never heard the term _Daddy Dom_. A quick google search of “DDLG” told her more than she ever wanted to know, such that she whispers to herself, “Gross,” followed later by, “Weird,” then, “Interesting,” and, after many hours, “Aww.”

The sun is setting and she still has a paper to write. She exits out of the forum and the thirty tabs she’d opened in research and forces herself to buckle down and finish it. It’s only nine by the time she churns out the last sentence, so she opens a bottle of wine and settles back into the DDLG forums. Hundreds of posts of Bigs looking for littles and littles looking for Bigs. Another forum of just littles talking together. Another of littles’ selfies for any Big who wants to look. Another for stories. Another for questions. Rey devours them all. She searches the terms and acronyms she doesn’t know, and that leads her down more and more paths--at first she justifies it with sick fascination, like gawking at a car accident, but she blinks and it’s two in the morning.

She shuts her laptop and goes to bed, thinks about what all she has to do tomorrow. As she starts to doze off, images float her mind--strong hands holding her down, a firm voice telling her: _good girl_.

***

Seemingly of its own accord, the DDLG personals forum flows into her cycle of apps to check. Email, Instagram, Facebook, Reddit inbox, DDLG forum. Over and over again. She gets a little thrill whenever a new Big posts, imagines how she would reply to it if she were a little. A thought experiment, she tells herself.

For totally unrelated reasons, she downloads Kik.

For additionally unrelated reasons, she makes a separate Reddit account, ReyBaby93.

She does other research, too, to see what else is out there. Rope forums and D/s personals and FetLife. She puts the date and time of a munch in her calendar but doesn’t go. Something about blanket BDSM doesn’t feel...right, somehow. Doesn’t give her the same feeling as DDLG--it’s too harsh, too strict. The Doms in the D/s forums all talk about things like _harems_ and _obedience_. The differences between subs and bottoms and slaves and brats makes her head spin. Everything is black backgrounds and white text, leather and silver chains. But DDLG is all pastels and littles talking about their favorite brand of colored pencil. She feels more comfortable with that.

What fascinates her most is the idea of little space. The beginners forum talks about it, how to slip into it, how good it feels to let go of the burdens of adulthood and be small again. She buys one of those adult coloring books and listens to the Spice Girls. It’s relaxing, but it’s not what the forum describes. She gets into a set of fuzzy pajamas, clutches a plushie, and watches _Frozen_. Nothing. It’s when she’s about to hit Purchase on a shopping cart of pacifiers, a onesie, and a package of adult diapers that she finally snaps.

She switches back to the personals forum, ready to type out the ad she’s been crafting in her head for months now, when she finds a new Big post:

**35 [M4F] exp Daddy seeking little 20+**

submitted 64 minutes ago by KyloRen

_Tall, athletic build, steady job, Chicago-based but I travel frequently. Availability evenings CST and weekends, some daytime texting possible. Looking for a 20+ little for long-term relationship. Long-distance is ok. No pics necessary. No experience necessary. Must be able to take care of herself but wants some extra care and attention. Preferred kinks include spanking, guided masturbation, phone sex, age play, and orgasm denial. Please reply with Kik info if interested._

It is by far the most grammatically correct message she’s ever seen on the forum. No gimmicks either, no _I am very nurturing but I have a firm hand when needed_. Before she can talk herself out of it, she replies:

_22f. Very interested. :) Message me? ReyBaby93_

She looks at the clock. Ten. It would be nine Central. Maybe he checks his notifications at lunch, she thinks. She imagines a big, athletic man in an office wearing a suit too small for him, like in porn, furtively checking his phone for replies. He must have posted in the forum before work. A morning person--that doesn’t bode well. She stalks his account to see where else he posts.

All of his replies are carefully crafted arguments on environmental sustainability or history forums. They’re so thick she can’t make it through a single one of them. Most of them are more articulate and well-cited than the papers she turns in for a grade. None of them are shorter than three paragraphs; she goes back two whole years and can’t find a single post on a kink forum, or a prior personals post anywhere. The most interesting thing she can find is a callout post on sexism in comic books dated a year back, where his rigid resolve crumbles and he calls someone a _fuckbucket_.

She checks the clock by her bed and rushes to class.

***

Rey glances at her phone every other second for the rest of the day. She makes sure Kik notifications are on about thirty times. One of her professors gives her a dirty look and she puts her phone between her legs to keep herself from looking at it.

She gets a message a little after seven, while she’s making pasta. After wiping her hands on a towel she unlocks her phone and reads it.

_KyloRen: Hello._

It occurs to her that it might be best to wait a few minutes so as not to seem overeager, maybe give the impression she’s shopping around in the Daddy market and he’s just one of many suitors. But her poor impulse control gets the better of her and she responds:

_ReyBaby93: Hi :) Sorry, I’m new to this. Do I call you Daddy already or does that come later?_

_KyloRen: Later. We can talk first. What do you go by?_

_ReyBaby93: Rey :) You?_

_KyloRen: You can call me Kylo._

_ReyBaby93: Hi Kylo :)_

_KyloRen: Hi Rey. Can you tell me a little about yourself? Whatever you’re comfortable sharing._

_ReyBaby93: I’m 22, slim, average height, white. I’m from the UK but I’m going to college in Ohio right now._

_KyloRen: For what?_

_ReyBaby93: Social work_

_KyloRen: Do you enjoy it?_

_ReyBaby93: Very much :) Did you go to school?_

_KyloRen: Masters in computer science. I’m a software engineer._

_ReyBaby93: That’s interesting_

_KyloRen: No it isn’t lol_

_ReyBaby93: Haha ok_

_KyloRen: How new are you to ddlg?_

_ReyBaby93: I started researching it a few months ago. I’ve never had a Daddy or a dom or anything. I hope that’s ok._

_KyloRen: It’s fine. I’ll teach you. What are you interested in?_

Rey prepared for this question, should it ever come up, but she’s chickening out a little now that it’s happening.

_ReyBaby93: Maybe not the sex stuff. Just the dynamic. For now I mean. No selfies yet either._

_KyloRen: Not a problem. Do you have any limits or triggers or anything?_

She’s infinitely less prepared for this question.

_ReyBaby93: I don’t think so. Not long distance anyway. Can I keep you updated if that changes?_

_KyloRen: Sure. We’ll go slow. Can I call you baby, or do you prefer another name?_

_ReyBaby93: Baby is perfect :) And you prefer Daddy?_

_KyloRen: I do. You can start using it now if you want, unless you have anything else you want to negotiate._

Her dinner sits on the floor beside her getting cold, the episode of TV that’s on unwatched. She trembles a little in anticipation as she types:

_ReyBaby93: No Daddy. I’m ready._

It takes him several minutes to respond.

_KyloRen: I’ll message you good morning every day. I want you to reply when you wake up and tell me how you slept. I’d like updates throughout the day, anything from check-ins to whatever details you want to tell me. I might not be able to respond until evening sometimes, but I’ll check my messages so if something is an emergency just let me know and I’ll reply as soon as I can. I’d like you to make a wishlist on Amazon and link it to me so I can send you gifts when you’ve been good, if you’re comfortable with that. I like pictures, so if you want to draw or color for me you can._

_ReyBaby93: That’s all? No rules or specific tasks or anything? No punishment?_

_KyloRen: Not yet. We’ll see how you do with this. If you like it and are interested in punishment and other things we can discuss it again. Just keep me updated that you’re enjoying yourself, and let me know if you’re not._

_ReyBaby93: Thank you Daddy :)_

***

The next morning, Rey finds a message sent at four a.m. Her alarm hasn’t gone off yet because it’s only seven, but she’s already wide-awake.

_KyloRen: Good morning baby_

_ReyBaby93: Morning Daddy. I slept great._

She isn’t expecting him to reply since it’s eight in Chicago, but he does.

_KyloRen: You remembered. Good girl. Did you have any dreams?_

_ReyBaby93: Not that I can remember :(_

_KyloRen: That’s ok. What are your plans for today?_

She types out everything she has planned for the day. It feels strange, divulging so much information at once. She’d worry with anyone else it would be boring and has to stifle the urge to put the focus on him instead, like she’s been taught to do her whole life.

_KyloRen: Sounds like a busy day. I have to go into work now but keep me posted ok?_

_ReyBaby93: Ok I will. Thank you Daddy._

***

That evening, Kylo replies in one long message to everything she’d told him, from her frustration with one of her professors, to what she learned in her forensic class, to dropping off her rent. She also finished coloring in a mandala and snapped a picture to send him.

_KyloRen: It’s beautiful baby. Thank you._

_ReyBaby93: Daddy can I ask a question?_

_KyloRen: Sure_

_ReyBaby93: What happened with your other littles?_

_KyloRen: They usually find a vanilla and opt for the egalitarian thing IRL. Never any hard feelings._

_ReyBaby93: How many have you had?_

_KyloRen: Four long distance, lasting anywhere from three months to a year. One in person, which  lasted two years. She was also my girlfriend._

_ReyBaby93: How long were you without one before you posted?_

_KyloRen: Six months. Tried online dating instead. It didn’t work out._

_ReyBaby93: What happened?_

_KyloRen: You’re inquisitive. I like that. Nothing really. All girls who either weren’t good at asking for what they wanted or asked for things I couldn’t give. They thought it was weird I wanted to negotiate after the third date. Normal relationships are so disorganized._

_ReyBaby93: I never thought of it like that. I get frustrated with them too._

They talk until Rey falls asleep.

***

It’s easier than she thought to get into the habit of filtering all her stupid thoughts to Kylo. Three weeks later, as she’s coming in from the grocery, it hits her that she hasn’t been anxious since they started talking. Or depressed. Or lonely, like she gets sometimes when she remembers her family is a whole ocean away.

A month after that, she finds herself doing a group project, and a guy interrupts her. She tells him, “Excuse you, I was speaking,” and continues. She never would have done that even six months ago--she would have let him trample all over her and then close in on herself. Making eye contact with people is easier. She laughs more than she used to. Conversation with strangers comes effortlessly. She doesn’t feel guilty for taking up space anymore, because in her pocket she’s carrying proof that someone values her, even if she’ll never meet him. She didn’t even realize she used to think that way until it changed.

He sends her gifts from her wishlist once a week or so--nail polish, lip gloss, candy, nice markers, a couple books and DVDs--all with little notes that tell her how important she is to him, how much he appreciates her. She thanks him profusely, and works up the courage to send him pictures of manicures she gives herself with the new colors she gets, even though her hands are raggedy from how often she bites at her nails and cuticles. He tells her she has lovely hands anyway and it makes her smile.

She gets a package one day and opens it. Swedish Fish, _Finding Nemo_ , a sea-themed coloring book, and aquamarine nail polish. She immediately digs into the Swedish Fish and messages him to say thank you.

_KyloRen: You’re welcome baby_

She hesitates. It’s been on her mind to ask for a while but she doesn’t know how to say it without sounding needy.

_ReyBaby93: Daddy I want something_

_KyloRen: What is it?_

_ReyBaby93: Just something. Not from my list. Something that you pick out that I can wear every day. It doesn’t have to be expensive, just so I can see it and think of you._

_KyloRen: Of course_

A week later she gets another package, this one a small bubble envelope. She opens it to find a pale pink choker with a dangling gold heart. Like a collar. She puts it on right away and admires it in her bathroom mirror, flushes all over at the sight of it around her neck.

After some hesitation, she gets out her phone and takes a picture, not of her whole face, but just her neck, her mouth where she’s biting her bottom lip. She sends it to Kylo.

_ReyBaby93: I love it Daddy thank you so much I’ll wear it all the time_

_KyloRen: Wow, it looks beautiful on you baby. Thank you for sending a pic._

_ReyBaby93: I want something else though_

_KyloRen: Anything_

She sits on her mattress and fidgets a little.

_ReyBaby93: When I wear it I get this feeling between my legs. Like pressure. I don’t know what to do to make it go away._

Agonizing minutes pass before Kylo replies.

_KyloRen: (Are you sure about this?)_

_ReyBaby93: (Yes)_

_KyloRen: It means you need to touch yourself baby_

_ReyBaby93: Down there? I don’t know how._

_KyloRen: I can teach you_

_ReyBaby93: Please Daddy_

***

Months pass. Kylo spends every evening spinning elaborate roleplaying scenarios via text which always leave Rey sleepy and satisfied. He buys her toys to play with and a fancy locked chest to put them all in. She records the sound of her voice when she comes and sends it to him. She takes pictures of her wet fingers and flushed skin. Always pieces of her and never the whole thing. He thanks her rigidly and she imagines the torture he’s going through, putting up such a stoic front. She can _feel_ how much he wants her, even if he doesn’t show it via text. It comes through loud and clear, like a telepathic connection between them.

One evening she texts him:

_ReyBaby93: Daddy I want something. For my good grades_

_KyloRen: Sure baby_

_ReyBaby93: I want to meet you_

_KyloRen: (WHAT)_

_ReyBaby93: (What what? It’s a perfectly reasonable request. Unless you don’t want to meet me)_

_KyloRen: (Ofc I want to meet you. I’m just surprised)_

_ReyBaby93: Daddy please I’ve been so good and my spring break is coming up_

_KyloRen: Ok baby. Because you’ve been so good._

***

The drive from Columbus to Indianapolis isn’t bad. She arrives at the restaurant early enough to fix her makeup in the mirror. Even though it’s an upscale steakhouse, she opted for a crop top, short skirt, and boots, all blacks and grays to make the pink choker pop.

She goes up to the hostess and says, “Reservation under Ren?”

The hostess takes her to a small table in a dark corner of the restaurant. Rey’s heart pounds in her chest. She tries to look at the menu but the words are all meaningless strings of empty symbols. Her phone sits silent on the table; she clicks it to check the time every couple seconds. Part of her wishes he wouldn’t show at all, but the other part of her is terrified of that idea, that they could have gone through all this just to end because he didn’t want to meet her. She swallows down her trepidation.

The hostess approaches with a man in tow. He’s so, so tall. And so, so built. The sleeves of his black dress shirt are rolled to his elbows and one of his forearms is covered with tattoos. His eyebrow is pierced. His black hair is tied up at the back of his neck and wisps of hair fall out of it but stay tucked behind his ear. His features are prominent but his face is sullen. She’s tempted to run before the hostess makes it to the table, Kylo is too attractive for her, this is too real, she needs to--

Her eyes meet Kylo’s and recognition flickers across his face. The hostess says, “Your server will be right out,” and then walks away. Rey’s jaw is loose and her mind is blank and she thinks she might die.

She had been planning to stand up and hug him but she’s frozen to the spot, so he takes a seat across from her and clears his throat. “I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but you are…” His eyes trail over her features and land on her neck. By the candlelight of the table she can see a flush across his face. “Really, really beautiful.”

She doesn’t respond, because her stomach is still in her throat.

Kylo shifts his fork a little to the side and says, “I know I’m--”

“Also beautiful,” she tells him in a rush.

He lets out a little self-deprecating laugh. It sounds kind of dorky. “Thanks.” He shifts again, his eyes darting to hers and away again. “How was the drive?”

“It was fine. Yours?”

“Good. No traffic.” A short silence passes between them and he casually says, “This is going to make me sound like an asshole but I had a few friends get in trouble recently, so can I see your ID?”

A surprised bubble of laughter escapes her. “Really? I look that young?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, man, I just don’t want to get busted for statutory.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Okay,” he says, and reaches in his pocket to fish out his wallet. She pulls hers out of her purse and they trade.

His photo looks more like a mug shot; his hair is much shorter and his ears are sticking out. His real name is Benjamin Solo, and he’s an organ donor.

“Benjamin, huh?” she asks as she hands it back.

“Just Ben,” he says as he does the same. They put the IDs back in their respective places. “I can’t believe your name is actually Rey. It’s not even short for anything.”

“What did you think it would be?”

“I don’t know, Susan or Helen or some shit. Rey sounds so...internetty. What does the S stand for?”

“Skye.”

“Your name is Rey Skye Walker? Were your parents hippies?”

“You could say that.”

The server comes by and takes their drink orders. She wants to get wine to dull her nerves, but when Kylo-- _Ben_ \--only orders water, she does the same.

“I like Ben better than Kylo I think,” she says when the server walks away again.

He picks up the menu and opens it. “Then you can call me Ben.”

“I have a feeling I won’t be doing that very often.”

His face goes a little red and he clears his throat again. “Do you know what you’re getting?”

“No.”

He looks at her and her closed menu and gives her a quizzical look.

“I want you to order for me,” she explains.

The server comes back with their waters and asks if they’re ready to order. Ben says, “I’ll have the eight ounce porterhouse, medium well. Baked potato, no sour cream.” When the server turns her attention to Rey, Ben adds, “She’ll have the six ounce, medium rare. Steak fries. House dressing is fine.”

When the server walks away Rey can’t hide her grin. “So what are we doing after this?” she asks in her best impression of sultry innocence.

“I thought we’d go out for ice cream.” He takes a sip of water and adds, “If you’re good.”

***

They book a hotel room for the night. It’s one of the nicest she’s stayed in, all white linen and no gaudy patterned carpet. Ben brings up her backpack for her. All he has is a black duffel bag.

She texts Poe in the elevator that she’s hooking up with someone, gives him the name of the hotel, and tells him she’ll text him tomorrow morning. Just to be safe.

They sit at the little sitting area in the corner of the hotel room. Ben has an actual legal pad out for some reason, looks at her, and says, “Okay.”

“Well that’s ominous.” Rey is sitting on her hands to keep herself from touching him. It’s taking too much willpower.

“If we’re going to do this, I need your hard limits.”

She makes a frustrated noise. She just wants to get _started_.

“Unless you want to go vanilla all weekend, which is fine--”

“God no.”

“Okay, so. Hard limits. Go.”

She sighs. She’s thought about it, but it feels weird saying them out loud. “No scat. Watersports, I wouldn’t mind pissing on you but you can’t piss on me. No...suspension or whatever. Not that I’d dislike it, it just takes too long and sounds boring. No blood play--”

“What about red wings?”

“Don’t have a preference. If that’s your thing, I’m in. Not relevant this weekend though.”

He makes a note.

“No branding. No asphyxiation.” She wrinkles her nose in thought and concludes, “That’s it.”

“Diapers? Enemas? Anything like that?”

“Did you bring diapers and an enema kit?”

He side-eyes his duffel bag. “I didn’t know what all you’d be into. I wanted to be prepared.”

Under any other circumstance, it might be sweet. “Put those under soft limits. I’m interested, but not this weekend.”

“What other soft limits then?”

“Ugh.”

He gives her a deadpan look.

“Fine. I don’t like verbal humiliation or degradation, but I won’t, like, throw a fit about it. No anal this weekend because I didn’t prep for it. And my jaw’s been bothering me so no ballgags.”

“Fair,” he says, and writes it all down. “Do you do RYG or safewords?”

“I don’t like either.”

“We should have something.”

“How about we use each other’s names?”

“To break a scene?”

“That works for me.”

He nods and writes it down, then opens a folder and hands her a piece of paper. The letterhead is for a doctor’s office. “Oh, right,” she says, and rifles through her bag to hand him her own. “One-night stands were never this in-depth.”

“One-night stands aren’t as fun,” he says absently as he scans her test results.

They trade back and he says, “So protection or no?”

She pulls out her birth control packet and shows it to him. “I’m good with no.”

“So I can come in you?”

“You’ll have to woo me first.”

He snorts a laugh and writes it down. “Anything else at all?”

“Will there be a written examination? Do I get to leave a Yelp review for you?”

“I’ve never been big on punishments, but this is really making me reconsider.” The fondness of his smile belies the threat.

“Oh good, then it’s working.” She taps the table. “So what’s the plan?”

He looks at his watch. “I’m going to go get ready, and you’re going to be a good girl and wait patiently for me.”

She bounces on her seat. “But I wanna do stuff _now_.”

He opens his backpack and takes out a stuffed wolf, a coloring book, and markers. “Here’s stuff.”

Her eyes go wide. The coloring book is nighttime wildlife themed, and the markers are her favorite brand. She opens to the first page and Ben gets up from his chair.

She catches his arm without thinking and says, “Daddy, wait.”

It’s like gripping steel. When their eyes meet again, his have gone a little dark, his mouth open slightly like he wants to devour her. She asks, “When will you kiss me?”

“You have to earn it.” Then he heads toward the bathroom.

She curls up in her chair with the wolf tucked under her chin, then opens the coloring book to a picture she likes--the moon and an owl--and starts coloring. She doesn’t know how much time passes, but she hears movement in the bathroom, the tap running in the tub. The room starts to smell sweet and the air gets humid. She doesn’t think about anything at all.

When Ben comes out of the bathroom, he gets her attention by touching her shoulder gently and saying, “C’mere, baby.”

She puts the stuffed wolf on the table and stands, and he guides her to the edge of the bed, which he bends her over. “Just a few strikes for being mouthy earlier, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” she says, fists clenched in the duvet. He runs his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck and grips it. The pull is painful but sends a wave of pleasure through her. She arches her back to him and he runs his other hand over the top of her skirt, the swell of her ass.

The first strike is a dull thud against her that only serves to rock her against the bed and make her re-steady her footing. He lifts her skirt up for the second one, tucking it into the waistband. This slap echoes a little and stings just as much. She hisses through her teeth. The third lands on her other cheek and leaves a hot throb in its wake.

“Can you do two more, baby?”

She nods, eyes squeezed shut. “Yes, Daddy.”

He hits a little lower this time, the back of her thigh. She lets out a low shocked noise that she can’t tell is pain or pleasure. The last one strikes hard against the existing ache. His hand is so close to the crotch of her panties she just wants him to touch her, to feel how wet she is for him already, but he puts her skirt down and smooths it, then guides her again to standing.

“So good for me,” he says, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “So beautiful.”

She casts her eyes downward and says shyly, “Thank you, Daddy.”

He guides her into the bathroom by the hand. The tub is enormous and contains a steaming bubble bath. Various toiletries are lined carefully on a towel on the sink--a nice razor, a toothbrush still in its packaging, toothpaste, a hairbrush, and a small stack of clothes. “Is this for me too?” she asks, pointing. Her voice feels far away when she talks.

“It is,” Ben replies. “Nothing you don’t want to do though, okay? Just tell me.” He reaches the back of her neck and unclasps her choker, places it on the empty portion of the sink. Next he reaches down and tugs up the hem of her shirt, pulls it over her head. He unclasps her bra and places it on the neat little pile. He lowers her skirt to the ground and she steps out of it, and when he comes back up his hands glide over her thighs to her hips. He hooks his fingers in her underwear and lowers those too until she’s naked and he’s on his knees in front of her.

It’s probably the first time she’s been naked in front of someone and hasn’t been self-conscious about it. She knows, understands in the deepest part of her, that she’s beautiful to him no matter what. He helps her into the tub and she lowers herself. The water is warm but not hot, and it soothes the welts on her ass.

“Good?” Ben asks.

Rey nods. She points to his shirt and says, “Aren’t you gonna get wet?”

“I won’t as long as you don’t splash me,” he says with a little smile. “Good girls don’t splash during bath time.”

“I won’t,” she replies, and settles back into the tub. He starts at her arms, putting a dollop of expensive looking bodywash on a washcloth and scrubbing her clean. She moves with him as he works, from her neck to her breasts to her stomach and thighs. He lifts each foot and scrubs them too. She giggles when it tickles and lets out a little moan when he massages them. He makes his way back up, the washcloth skating past her inner thighs, and stopping between her legs. He moves in a gentle circular motion that has her gripping his forearm and gasping. “Daddy, please,” she says, and opens her legs wider.

He replaces the washcloth with his fingers, sliding against her slick folds. “Good?”

“Uh huh,” she says, and bites her lip. His fingers circle around her clit in a way that teases more than relieves. She can feel the build-up start already, but the second she starts to tense, he moves his hand away. She lets out a groan of despair.

He leans forward and kisses her temple. “Not yet, baby, okay?”

When the bath is over he pulls the drain and helps her up, gets a towel and dries her off. He helps her out of the bath, then sits her down on the lid of the toilet.

“Is it okay if I shave you?” he asks, stopping the sink and filling it.

“Are you picky about body hair?”

“No, I just like doing it. It’s okay if you’d rather not.”

“You’ve done it before, right?”

“Tons of times.”

“Alright.”

She leans back and spreads her legs. He puts some kind of fancy shaving cream on her and starts at the center, moving with the grain of the hair in gentle, even strokes. It’s much better than when she does it herself, really more of a quick hack job usually. The way he does it is methodical, like a strange kind of meditation: swipe the razor, rinse it off, repeat. Having such light pressure so close to her clit makes her wet, but she’s unable to fidget. It’s a sweet kind of torture that makes her whole body run hot.

When he’s finished, he wipes the remaining shaving cream off of her with a dry washcloth and leans in to brush a soft kiss against her before standing.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says. When she gets back up, her knees are weak.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he says, and a shiver of pride runs down her spine.

He opens the toothbrush package and hands it to her. She puts on a dab of toothpaste, but before she starts brushing, she asks, “Do I have to hum the alphabet?”

“Yep.”

So she does. He leans on the doorjamb and watches with his arms across his chest. He looks as relaxed as she feels, and she wonders idly if he gets the same thing out of this, the sweet blankness of being. When she finishes brushing, he gives her a hand towel. She wipes her mouth and grins at him.

“Perfect,” he says. He picks up a bundle of cloth from the sink and unfolds it. They’re a pair of pale pink underwear with little white hearts on them.

“Did you pick those out for me?”

“I did.” He kneels down and holds them out for her to step into, one foot then the next, and slides them up her body. They fit perfectly somehow. As if she asked it aloud, he explains, “You had clothes on your wishlist. I got your size from there.”

“Oh,” she says. He picks up a white v-neck t-shirt next, which is definitely not her size.

“It’s mine,” he says in way of explanation. She lifts her arms and he puts it over her. It feels like a tent on her and nearly goes down to her thighs. The collar threatens to fall off her shoulder.

He takes her by the hand and guides her back into the room. “Lie down,” he says. She does, and he shuffles in his backpack for a laptop. He puts it on the bed and plugs it in, then hands her the stuffed wolf. She snuggles into the sheets and watches him move, his hulking form possessing a surprising grace. He reminds her of a warrior more than a software engineer.

He strips down to his boxers. _Athletic_ was an understatement, she thinks. He actually has visible abdominal muscles. She’s never met a man with abs before. Both arms are covered in sleeve tattoos that extend to his back. He has a few pieces that pepper his legs and hips.

“I like your tattoos,” she says. Her voice is muffled into the wolf.

He turns off the lights and climbs into bed with her. She can see him smile by the light of the laptop. “Thank you, baby.”

“Did they hurt?”

He clicks around and starts up _Beauty and the Beast_. “A little. You get used to it.”

“Will you show them to me sometime?”

“Sure.” He settles in beside her, puts his arm around her. She pillows her head on his chest and listens to his heart while she watches the movie. His hand runs gentle circles on her back under her shirt.

She’s warm. Comfortable. A little drowsy. Ben smells good. She’d come into the hotel room antsy for the best sex of her life but now her mind is blissfully empty and all she can feel is a kind of indescribable fullness and contentment.

Halfway through the movie, she looks up at him. She doesn’t want to ask for it, but she will if she has to. She needs to kiss him, to feel his mouth against hers. 

He shifts around so she’s lying on the pillow, cups her hand in his palm, and kisses her. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you go a little stupid for a while, turns your knees weak and makes you never want to do anything but kiss for the rest of your life. She runs her hand through his hair; he parts her lips with his tongue. She hadn’t noticed before, but the ball of a tongue stud clacks in her mouth and sends a new kind of thrill through her. He hikes her shirt up and his hand spans her entire ribcage. She lets out little moans but he’s totally silent--she worries a little if he’s enjoying it as much as she is, but then squashes those thoughts. It’s part of the deal: it’s his job to tell her if he doesn’t like something, and hers too, and that alone relaxes her more than almost any interaction she’s had. Moreover, this is about her. Her needs. Her wants. And she wants exactly this.

He trails his hand up her shirt, stopping at her breast and thumbing idly over a nipple. A teasing casual brush, back and forth, stopping occasionally to pinch it between his thumb and forefinger and roll it around. She can feel wetness start to soak into the crotch of her panties, her body tensing with the single burning touch of his fingers.

He moves onto the next one, giving it an equal amount of attention until Rey finds herself letting out little hitched noises, wiggling around on the sheets. She knows if she urges him faster he’ll only slow down.

His hand moves down, under the covers and between her legs, fingers gently grazing over the soggy crotch of her underwear. She grips his arm and bites her lower lip. He continues teasing her, two fingers lightly coaxing up and down over and over. Her legs spread wider to give him better access, invite him without words to please, please touch her.

He finally slides his hand into her panties and grazes his fingers over her. “God, you’re so wet for me, baby,” he whispers into her ear.

“For you, Daddy,” she replies. Her voice has gotten high and young-sounding. She can feel his erection throbbing against her hip.

He slicks his fingers and rolls them up to her clit. She can already feel herself getting close; he seems to know exactly how and when to touch her to keep her on edge. She grips his arm and rocks her hips against his hand. His fingers feel huge when they press inside of her.

“You like that, baby?” he asks.

She nods and says, “Please, Daddy, I need to--” A couple more swipes of his finger and she’s coming, crying out, hips shifting against his hand.

He slows his movements, removes his fingers, and strokes her. “That’s right, baby, so good for me.”

When she climbs down from her climax, she kisses him again, and asks, “Will you…” and reaches up to put her finger on his lips.

“What,” he says, and kisses her neck. “This?”

“No, Daddy--lower.”

He rucks her shirt up under her armpits and gets to his knees to trail kisses down her neck and chest, stopping at her breasts to lick and suck at each nipple. Rey can’t hold back the moan that escapes her as the ball of his tongue stud rolls around the sensitive skin. He lifts off and blows on it until it peaks up obscenely. “This?” he asks, looking up at her innocently.

“Lower.”

He settles between her legs and kisses the inside of her thigh. “Here?”

“No, Daddy.”

Against her thigh, he murmurs, “Show me, baby.”

She reaches down and moves her panties to the side, strokes herself with her fingers like she does when he texts her. She’s soaked and oversensitive, lips swollen as she circles herself. “Here,” he says, stopping at her clit.

“Tell me what you want,” he says. His mouth is closer to her now, she can feel the warmth of his breath.

“I want--I want your mouth on me, please, Daddy.”

He inches closer until the ball of his tongue stud is pressed against her clit, and she sighs from the relief of tension. He sinks two fingers into her and fucks her with them, his other hand on her pelvis, grinding against her g-spot in a way no one has ever done for her before, or that she’s managed to do for herself. She finds herself moaning so loudly she’s worried they’ll be asked to leave the hotel. Ben eats her out voraciously, eyes closed and meeting her movements like he’s inside her head. She comes so hard she nearly screams, and as she’s falling down, she crawls back up again somehow and climaxes a second time. He doesn’t stop laving at her or fucking her with his fingers, and she comes a third time, too, like her body doesn’t even belong to her anymore; she didn’t know it was capable of this.

Finally she grows too sensitive and reaches down to tap his shoulder. He gets the hint and leans up on his knees to wipe his face with the back of his hand. His dick is tenting his boxers, and he pulls them down to take himself in hand. He’s huge and hard and leaking for her, and she has a sudden emptiness that needs filled.

He pulls off his boxers gracefully and she spreads her legs open for him. He doesn’t bother removing her underwear as he slides the head of his cock against her opening, dipping the head in and pulling back out. Her back arches for him to go in deeper, but he’s taking his time, playing with her, getting her all wound up again even though her body should be spent.

Then he plunges into her. He fucks her roughly in missionary before he says, “Hold on,” and pulls her up into his lap. Her mind goes completely blank as he pounds into her, as deeply as gravity will let her sink onto him. The elastic of her panties are digging into her but she doesn’t care. She scratches her nails down his muscular back and bites at his shoulders and thinks she hears herself saying, _Daddy, oh god, Daddy, please, harder…_

He slows down long enough to pull out and roll her onto her knees, where he yanks her underwear down to her thighs and continues fucking her. He threads his fingers into her still-damp hair and pulls back. His other hand is grabbing her hip, pushing her backward onto his cock. He’s speaking praises into her ear, calling her _baby, what a good girl for me, so good for Daddy_ , and she revels in the shattering of his stoicism. Basking in his letting go, the shuddered movements as his thrusts become more shallow and his body tenses.

“Come in me, Daddy, please come in me,” she says, breathless and babbling, unable to control herself anymore.

He stills and she can feel him pulsing inside of her as he comes, with a sharp inhale followed by a slow exhale. He stays inside of her for a long moment before pulling out. Her walls clench around the emptiness and she sits up on her knees.

“Stay right there,” he says, steadying her. His come starts to drip out of her. She imagines it’s a sight--pink panties stretched around her thighs, big t-shirt hiked up, come dripping down her legs. “God,” he says. He takes a finger and runs it up the length of her thigh to gather his come and push it back inside of her.

“Lie down,” he says while tugging up her panties. She does, and he pulls the covers over her shoulder and kisses her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

He goes to the bathroom. The light flashes on momentarily before the door shuts and she’s bathed in darkness. He’s gone so long that she drifts off, and when he returns, he has her sit up while he tips a glass of water into her mouth. She does as he instructs--his orders are direct and soft. He ends every sentence with _so good for me_ and calls her _baby_ and she feels blissfully unaware of everything but her Daddy taking care of her, body heavy and tired and mind in the most peaceful place it’s ever been.

He takes her shirt off and lays her on her stomach. His hands massage out her shoulders and arms and back, warm lavender massage oil seeping into her skin and making her feel like she could sink into the mattress for eternity. She falls asleep with strong arms wrapped around her, kisses against the back of her neck, feeling safe and warm and happy.

***

She wakes up to the feeling of a hard cock against her ass, sleepily grinding against her. Ben’s voice is deeper in the morning, she notices, when he asks, “Good morning, baby.”

“Morning, Daddy,” she mutters. She rubs her face against her stuffed wolf she’d clutched against her chest all night, and pushes back onto Ben’s cock. It takes all of a minute before he’s lowering her underwear once more and sliding his dick between her thighs, still slick from his come and the massage oil. He breaches her entrance and inches back, again and again, until she’s gasping and moving with him. Then he sinks into her come-soaked pussy, morning light streaming through the slat in the closed curtains. The clock says nine in the morning, and she clutches the sheets while he fucks into her.

***

They check out shortly before noon. Their cars are parked together in the hotel parking lot, where Ben puts her bag into her trunk for her and shuts it. She’s wearing the same clothes she wore yesterday, and her knees feel like jello. The scene has ended but they’re both quiet. Ben leans against his car and nervously plays with his keys.

“I asked you once about your other littles,” Rey says hesitantly. “You said one of them was your girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” Ben replies. He won’t meet her eyes for some reason. She guesses the authority he holds in being a Big doesn't bleed into the real version of himself. 

“How’d that work out?”

“Pretty well, actually. Until she cheated on me, I mean.”

“But the baby-slash-girlfriend thing worked?”

He nods, apparently not getting what she's really asking. His eyes trail up her body and stop at her choker. “Yeah.”

She steps closer to him, so that he's forced to either look at her or intentionally look away. He looks at her. She pushes up on her toes and kisses him. He wraps his arms around her body; she threads her fingers into his hair, like the night before, like she hopes she'll be able to do again soon. His mouth still tastes like her. She can't wait to see him again.

When she pulls away, his face is red, and he says, “Is that something you’d want to try?”

She takes his hand in hers and squeezes it. “Yes, Daddy.”  



End file.
